


of paramount importance

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He's not failing social studies. By word, he isn't.But then his research paper is handed back to him with scratches of angry red clustered in the margins, between sentences as well. A 'see me after class' scribbled in bold.Michael is good. He's a nice teacher, a nice guy. The touches are unforgettably burned into the back of his mind. Against his skin, they sting like post-battle wounds being sterilized by rubbing alcohol. But it's just Michael.Or, Peter is being sexually abused by his teacher
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 249





	of paramount importance

**Author's Note:**

> the following is based off of my own experiences and i am, in fact, projecting
> 
> please stay safe,,,warnings for rape (only mentioned) and semi-graphic self harm
> 
> <3

He's not failing social studies. 

By word, he isn't.

Peter's doing fine in school, weaving his way through the year with grades that only some can picture. Math, science, Spanish mixed in with PE, English- all those, and more, prove to be a walk in the ballpark. But social studies, maybe not so much. Mrs Taggart had gone on maternity leave one-quarter through the year, from what he'd heard.

"My name is Mr Kennedy but you guys can call me Michael," 

It's strange, Peter had thought at first- calling an adult by their first name (cue a protesting Tony). But it seemed that everybody liked Michael.

And they're right; he's not mean. Contrarily, he's a cool teacher. He jokes around in class and has a way of cajoling everyone into doing their work. He's fine.

But then his research paper is handed back to him with scratches of angry red clustered in the margins, between sentences as well. A 'see me after class' scribbled in bold. He can't fathom what the problem is, he had spent hours scrolling through consistent sources before typing the initial paper up on his laptop. He even had Ned and MJ proofread for good measure.

"You steer away from the main subject too much, Peter," Michael explains, almost in a way that makes him sound patriarchal. All Peter can do is stiffly stand there and nod as he speaks. By no means is the man slandering his work or _him_ for that matter, there's absolutely nothing to cry about. But he can't stop a few boiling tears from shedding down his cheeks. 

Michael only rubs his back, smiles and tells him that it's okay. That he can come in re-write the essay later on in the week. Michael is good. He's a nice teacher, a nice guy. The touches are unforgettably burned into the back of his mind. Against his skin, they sting like post-battle wounds being sterilized by rubbing alcohol. But it's just Michael. He's cool, and then some.

Days later, his newly written paper is given back to him with an A plus.

Like the painfully observant aunt she is, May gradually starts to develop her own suspicions. "You've been quiet lately Peter. What's wrong?" she asks over their usual Thai dinner.

Peter isn't going to tell her anything. Lying, to him, is a common occurrence. He knows how much May worries about him, he doesn't want to add on to the worry. It's easy to lie, as long as nobody knows it's a lie. Between school and his vigilantism, fibbing about one to cover the other is almost like breathing. It goes as follows; on nights where patrol is hard he'll tell May school has wrung him out. When school gets hard, he tells her patrol had been brutal. 

"Mhm? No, it's nothing. Tough week at school, s'all,"

And he's not exactly lying but he's not exactly telling the truth.

May drops him off at the tower Friday after school for the weekend. When Tony pops out from the lab to greet him, he doesn't hesitate to point out, "You look a bit out of it, kid. Want to lay down for a bit? Lab time can wait,"

No matter how many times he tries to tell the man that he's okay, he's sent to bed on an early notice. He can't sleep though. His brain works in spurs, it does what it wants sometimes, jumping from one thought to an unwanted memory. Something about it is sickly, disgustingly tantalizing, when he pulls the research paper from his backpack to stare at it some more. Tony comes into his room minutes later and asks if he can see it and with twisted pride, Peter smiles and hands it to him.

The man tries to keep his finger in the pie when it comes to Peter's well being anyway.

They learn about sexual assault in health class next the week. 

It's horrific how it makes him think about Michael and what he did. But it's only assault if you don't consent to it, if you're not okay with it. Peter hadn't liked what Michael did but he's a nice guy and he wasn't trying to hurt him. The confusion running through his brain is enough to compel him into running out of the room when class is over. He hears a couple of kids from health laughing near the hallway stairs during passing.

"You must be such a whore to let yourself get fucking assaulted. Who in their right mind would even let that happen to themselves?"

"Penny-brained sluts probably,"

As if that alone doesn't send him through a long enough guilt trip, Ned unintentionally makes his stomach churn. "Dude, I feel so sorry for people who get assaulted. Like, I can't even imagine how hard it must be for them," 

It's all the evidence he needs for the guilt of everything to start feeding itself through his veins like poison. But then again, it could be considerably worse. Who is he to think he's worthy of calling himself a survivor? A victim? It's nothing compared to the explicitness of the scenarios described in health class. Peter's _fine_. 

Michael is spontaneously sharp-eyed. From the list of things a teacher should encase, Michael proves to be all of them and more. And it's a good thing, having a teacher that experts in all subjects alike- most of his classmates go to him for help for a variety of classes. He laughs, he makes learning fun, he's more of a best friend than he is a teacher sometimes. But it all seems so materialistic. So money-motivated.

Another day, he asks Peter to come and see him after school. Thoughts of what he'd done throughout the past few weeks tear through his mind. Inevitably, he materializes in front of the man's desk right after the last bell, the wells of his eyes moist even before Michael says a word.

He asks Peter if his parents were proud of the grade he had gotten on his essay. He shrugs in response, biggest understatement of the century if he says he's uneasy.

Peter isn't a victim, he's a hero whether he likes it or not. He's spider-man. Disregarding the finger impressions on his hips and the bitterness on his tongue and the way some of his hair falls from his scalp after being pulled, he's a hero. And heroes, well, heroes fight to ensure the safety of everyone around them. Heroes are not weak, nor do they give in with little to no effort. Peter sobs when it comes to a finish. Michael tells him he has pretty eyes and that crying only diminishes their beauty.

He passes his social studies test with full points.

Disgust overcomes shock.

Tony brings him to the compound for a session of training the next weekend. He's evidently tired, more than usual at the least. Midway through sparring with Natasha, he collapses on the gym floor in spurts of gasps and heaves. Tony obviously notices this and subtly asks him if he wants to go walking around the compound property later that evening. 

In the midst of everything, it's sort of what he needs. But then again, there's no escaping Tony Stark's wrath when he's onto something.

"How have things been lately?" the man asks as they stroll through a little patch of trees.

"Good. School's good. Stressful but okay."

There's a look of disbelief of Tony's face as he puts an arm around the kid and pulls him closer. "Sounds like it's a lot. You can always take a break you know?"

Is there such thing as a mental break?

"Yeah," he smiles but now his heart is in his throat. "I know."

They walk onto the deck that draws out into the lake beside the estate and Peter sits at the edge, feet dangling into the water. Tony starts to tell him about his upgraded nano-tech suits and Peter half-listens, occasionally nodding. His mind jumps back a bit and the other man has to shake him into reality again.

Tony wholeheartedly confides in him and tells him that he's worried for him. It makes Peter angry and he thinks, what a bunch fo bullshit. He isn't a child anymore. He can take care of himself.

"I'm fine, Mr Stark. It's just stress. Just- just stress." he makes sure to pop a grin at the end of his sentence and a, "Worrying isn't good for old people,"

" _Brat_!"

For a moment in time, things feel as they should.

A brief interlude occurs when Homecoming becomes the new talk around school. Last year's had been sort of a fashionably catastrophic disaster with the Vulture incident. Ned and MJ ask if he wants to go and having missed Homecoming last year, he's intrigued to come this year. 

Tony has a suit tailored for him and takes it upon himself to style his hair before Happy comes to pick him up. Peter tries not to flinch when Tony gently pulls a strand to comb it down into place. He stares at himself in the mirror and all he can see is the saturated image of Michael with his hands on his face and his lips grazing against his neck. Peter falls back and Tony yelps.

"I'm fine," he immediately says.

Tony doesn't say another word until Happy comes to pick him up. "Have fun," the man waves.

The dance is fun, for what it's worth. The whole atmosphere of the gym is fun, decorations, music and all. He and Ned dance and MJ sways from afar, claiming that the frequency of music affects your brain the more you listen to it. They both know she's just embarrassed but they manage to pull her in for a slow dance, as a trio. They even have their picture taken at the photo booth set up in the back, it's the most fun Peter has had in months. 

A nice way to unwind, as he has a habit of biting off more than he can chew.

With a sheen of sweat on his forehead, he walks to the refreshments table to pour himself a glass of punch. Remarkably, Michael is there when he stalks up to the table. His first reaction is to pretend that the man isn't there. But the task is virtually impossible, he can feel the man's eyes on him, piercing lasers that burn through the side of his head. Out of all chaperones.

"You clean up nicely, Pete."

He mumbles a thank you and blinks.

"I saw you dancing with your friends earlier, seems like you're having fun."

"I am."

Michael's tongue clicks. "Good. That's good. Did you start your French Revolution project?"

He doesn't mean to answer, now he's griping the edge of the table with white knuckles. "No,"

"Well. It's due in the upcoming week, I suggest stop by and get some help."

Peter scrambles to the bathroom later, after he drowns deep into a feeling of sickness. It scares him how much of a grasp Michael has around his throat. Suggestively, he isn't at one bit violent. His mannerisms are more passive than they are aggressive. What is he going to say against the teacher that everyone likes? He's a hero, not a victim.

Being spider-man has become a chore. He's afraid to go on patrol nowadays, the suit hangs dusty and untouched in the back of his closet.

It's a trap but Peter goes and sees Michael anyway. He's not the same after he comes out of that classroom, beyond shaken and past traumatized. That night, he sits in his room at his and May's apartment after a shower. His knees are bruised from kneeling for too long and Peter gently picks at a faded scar on his wrist that he'd gotten from burning himself in the kitchen months ago. It still hasn't fully disappeared.

He picks and peels for so long that he doesn't even take note of the blood and dead skin cells caked between his fingernails. It comes to such a point that he's ripping his skin away and digging into his tissue. It stings. But something about feels nice, like a weight has been lifted from his aching shoulders. Like drinking water after a long run.

Unluckily, the blood from the self-created wound seeps through the material of his sweatshirt the next day and Tony has him cornered. He tells a whole lie about how school is too much and that the work is overwhelming, sheds a few tears to make it more believable. What he's doing is sick but it's this way or the other.

May is without a doubt furious, mostly at herself for not doing anything sooner but Peter can't really blame her. He knows he's a handful.

Therapy hits him like a truck, almost killing him in the process- tedious and annoying at times. It's a three days out of seven schedule and the woman is nice. She gives him snacks during their sessions and they talk about Star Wars as they wait for Tony or May to come pick him up. It's Tony most of the time though.

"How was it?" the man asks him when Peter climbs into the front seat.

He shrugs. "Good I guess. She said I'm making progress," he sighs.

"I know it's hard but we're just trying to look out for you, kid."

"I know. Sorry,"

"Hey, Pete. Enough of that, you don't have anything to be sorry for, alright? Now I was thinking we could get some sundaes at that place downtown,"

It gets notably better after that and social studies class isn't as much of an obstacle now that he and Ned are working on the upcoming project _together_. But the cake comes crumbling down when Michael claims to have caught him for plagiarizing. 

In the lab, Peter breaks. "Mr Stark?"

Tony looks up from the gauntlet they've been taking apart for the past hour. "Yeah?"

"There's this boy in my class," he chokes. "h-he's, I think he's being sexually assaulted by his social studies teacher,"

It's a phenomenon how Tony's brain can connect one dot to the other. Or maybe Peter was just being obvious. He'll never know. He's never been good at keep secrets anyway. 

Everything comes falling down. May is a mix of different feelings, Tony gets into immediate contact with lawyers.

Dr Cho is called over and examines him in the lab, swabs and everything. When he goes to school on Monday, Michael's things have disappeared from the classroom and the room is but an empty shell of lost memories. Both May and Tony tell him he can stay home for a few days if he wants but Peter refuses. Staying home means he's accepting the fact that Michael had a higher power over him. Not that he didn't.

Even with the man gone, he doesn't feel any better. Heart in a cage. His therapist says he's relapsing, he says bullshit. Who is she to determine what he is and isn't feeling? All he can feel is the corner of the desk pressing into his side and hands tracing the outline of his hipbones. Most days are cycles of empty calories and long, reflective naps.

Is this what being a survivor embodies? Why doesn't he feel guilt, why isn't he crying? It doesn't happen like it does on TV. But then again, it's TV.

He accidentally pushes the tip of a pencil into his wrist while thinking.

A reluctant May goes away on a mandatory business trip a week later and he's left in Tony's care. From around the corner one night, he hears him talking on the phone with his aunt. "He was so quiet about everything, I should have known, he said it was school. I wish I could have done something, you know?"

A bout of anger surges through his body. "I was raped not _fucking_ murdered! You can stop talking about me like I'm dead or some shit!" he slams the door behind him and tears a large chunk of hair out from his scalp until he's left with blood sputtering out of the top of his head.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes when Tony sits him down and shaves his mop of uneven hair off. It'f for the better if Peter wants it to be even again. He watches thick strands fall into the sink, one by one. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Pete. You had every right to," 

"I'm still sorry though. It's just that- it's hard to accept it I guess. That I knew it was happening and didn't do anything to stop him?" he explains.

Tony works on the side of his head. "People are sick. I'm not even going to sugarcoat it- people are sick and will be willing to do anything to have it their way."

A third eye opens and the word Afghanistan flashes before him.

"But seriously Peter. When you told me, that was probably one of the bravest things you've ever done. Forget about spider-man, _Peter Parker_ is the real hero." Tony kisses him on the forehead and Peter doesn't even feel it but he's crying.

It's an epiphany. Maybe it's the new look, the buzzcut that he now has. Peter looks into the bathroom mirror after Tony finishes up and laughs hard. _God_ , he looks so stupid.

He can't bring himself to care though.

Mrs Miller is the nicely cliché little old lady that replaces Michael. She's not heaven in the clouds with her grading but she doesn't intentionally fail him. He gets an A minus on the first assignment and gets it framed before hanging it up on the wall in the apartment.

One out of three times Tony catches him trying to rip the skin on his fingers away. He stands on his feet, wraps his fingers with band-aids and says from the bathroom, "Peter Parker is a hero! Sometimes he relapses, but not always! He's a hero!" and smiles.

He's definitely not over it. Peter doesn't know if he ever will, most days it just feels like a hazy dream he can't remember. It's better though. He even collects the courage to tell Ned and MJ. They're horrified, of course, but he tells them with the pride of being a survivor in his chest.

Then there's a trial. 

He decides to testify- given the choice. He gets up on the podium and his legs are in shambles but it's okay. He's thinner, with little to no hair on his head, sporting various different scars on his body- both mental on physical. But he testifies, going detail through detail as he looks straight at the man who'd brought such discord to his life. Obviously, his life will never be the same again, this'll be with him to the grave.

"Michael Kennedy, by the law of the state I hereby sentence you to fifty three years in prison," the judge hits his gavel on the wooden block and it's final. It comes to and end.

Peter cries the whole ride home. Not sad tears, indifferent tears.

"I am a bowl of oatmeal," he tells Tony, head in the man's lap as he's reading a book- _The House on Mango Street_. Summer vacation spent at the compound is satisfyingly boring.

"Oh yeah? Do speak my child of mystery,"

"It's like- oatmeal is bland and ugly on the outside,"

"You're not ugly kid," Tony reproaches, scratching the top of his head.

Peter hums. "Not saying that I am. I'm beautiful. I'm just saying that oatmeal seems so bland on the outside but once you take a spoonful you go 'hey, this is pretty good' you know? Cause it's sweet but salty and savory. Complex on the inside, I guess."

"Oatmeal is complex. And so are you buddy, it's a good thing."

It's what he tells himself everyday. Maybe if he says it enough, it'll naturally settle in one day. To say that he's okay would be a lie. He's a plot point in the middle of a tangent line. But he's fine.

Life is a bowl of cherries. Sometimes.

He stands up and leans against the balcony railing, waving at anyone, anything- which happens to be Rhodey as the man makes an entrance into the building- before shouting from the bottom of his lungs, "My name is Peter Parker, I'm sixteen years old and I am a hero and a survivor!"

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, the part where peter says "i was raped not fucking murdered!" are words i've actually said in the past year,,most of the dialogue and thoughts in the work are based off real life events 
> 
> it's hard but it gets better
> 
> ty for reading <3


End file.
